


sugar's sweet, and so is she

by lco123



Series: Bye Bye Blackbird [1]
Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 17,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lco123/pseuds/lco123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alison, gripping frantically at a sense of family, decides to have a baby.  And Emily's the only one who can help her.  (Emily and Alison's story in the "Bye Bye Blackbird" universe)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to 6x15. Most certainly canon-divergent afterward. Title from "Bye Bye Blackbird" (a frequently referenced song in PLL).

Emily’s dream always began the same way.

She was in Alison’s room, but Alison wasn’t there.  Emily hadn’t been in Alison’s room since she went missing, and it felt wrong to be here without her.  All the same, Emily couldn’t resist moving about the room to take it in: the sight of Alison’s notebooks, the feel of her clothes along Emily’s hand, the smell of her shampoo still lingering on the pillow.

It was always at that moment—that pitiful, hopeless moment when Emily was sniffing Alison’s pillow—that the girl in question would appear.  Emily could never figure out how she got there; just that one minute, Emily was alone, and the next, Alison was beside her.  Alison smiled, rolled her eyes a little when she saw the pillow.  Emily thought she’d be chastised, but Alison just fluidly pulled the pillow from her hand and tossed it on the bed, before taking Emily’s hands in her own.

“I love you, you know,” Alison whispered then, warmly.  “I’ve always loved you.”  She twirled Emily in an impromptu dance, and Emily smiled.  She felt something blooming inside her, almost like a light trying to shine its way out of her chest.  Alison _loved_ her.

Alison continued, “I want to be with you, Emily.  Do you want to be with me?  Do you want to run away with me?”

This was where the dream became something else.  Because Emily tried to nod, but her head couldn’t move.  So she tried to speak, but no words would come out.

Alison's eyes widened in fear and her voice became more pleading: “Emily, won’t you please take me away?  Emily, can’t we run away together?  Please!  Emily?  Emily?!”

It was that second utterance of her name that always woke Emily up.  The dream occurred enough that some mornings Emily, in that hazy place between sleeping and wake, would be convinced that there was more memory than phantom to it.  And yet a dream it was, too hopeful to be a nightmare but too sad for a fantasy.  

In the year before Bethany Young’s body was found in the DiLaurentis yard, in the year when Alison was still just missing—before she was dead but not really—Emily had this dream more times than she could count.  Even after Alison returned, every once and a while the dream would too: Ali’s questions always frantic, Emily’s voice always absent.

But once she’s left Rosewood, said her goodbyes and angled her car out of Ali’s driveway and her life, the dream finally goes away for good.  In fact, once Emily moves out of Rosewood she stops dreaming pretty much all together.  And when she does, she rarely remembers them.

Emily hasn't even thought about the dream in years until, at twenty-five, she finds herself in front of Alison, eyes wide, Emily’s hands in hers, about to ask a question that will leave Emily unable to speak.

Alison does not tell Emily she loves her.  She does not beg her to run away.  Instead, she says, “I need to have a baby.  Can you help me with that?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a certain wryness that’s bloomed in Hanna since the dissolution of her engagement; some of that hopefulness that she’d stubbornly clung to has finally started to wear off.  At first this change concerned Emily.  She was used to a certain amount of optimism when she spoke with Hanna.  But in the year and a half since Hanna moved out of Jordan’s swanky apartment and into her own smaller place one borough over, Emily’s grown fond of this new side to her friend.  The dryness is at times refreshing, and at this point, totally expected.

So when Emily calls Hanna for a much-needed dose of reality and is greeted by a breathless, “Emily, hi!” followed by a pronounced giggle, she’s automatically confused.

“Hanna, did I catch you in the middle of something?” she asks, puzzled.  A throaty laugh crackles in the background, a laugh that is very familiar to Emily.  “Wait, are you with Spencer?”

Hanna takes a breath, seeming to steady herself.  “Yeah, Spencer’s here.  Say hi to Em, Spence!” Hanna calls into the background.

“Hi Em!” Spencer calls back, followed by a lower, equally familiar, “Hey Emily.”

Emily raises her eyebrows at no one.  “You’re with Spencer _and_ Caleb?  Together?”

Hanna nonchalantly "mhmm"s into the phone, but Emily isn’t going to let that one slide.  “Isn’t that awkward?” she presses.

Hanna giggles again— _Jesus, are they high?_  Emily ponders—and says brightly, “No, it really isn’t.  We’re having a lot of fun.”  Emily isn’t sure, but she thinks Hanna’s voice drops a little on the word _fun_.

“I didn’t even know they were in New York,” she replies, trying not to sound as accusatory as she suddenly feels.

“They’re not,” Hanna corrects.  “I’m in D.C."  She pauses, considering, “I really like it here.”

Emily scoffs a little.  “You haven’t willingly left New York since Charlotte died,” she points out.

“Yeah, well, I think I might be ready for a change.  I’m actually thinking about moving here.”  Hanna’s continuing to talk casually in a way that Emily finds a little maddening.

“To D.C.?” Emily follows up, incredulous.

“Yeah.  Hey, why did you call?” Hanna posits before Emily can ask more questions.

Emily swallows, hard, her mind refocusing on her current predicament.  “Oh, I was actually wondering whether I could come for a quick visit.  I’m interviewing at a hospital in New Jersey and thought maybe I could come see you for a few days.  But if you’re in D.C. . . . ”  She trails off lamely, feeling somehow on the outside of whatever laughter-filled world Hanna, Spencer and Caleb are living in.

“When’s your interview?”

“Next week.  I know it’s short notice, sorry.”  It isn’t a lie—nothing she’s said so far is—but it feels like one.  The _real_ reason why she needs to see Hanna—the weird, Ali-centric reason—feels too strange to speak about in this already-strange phone call.

Hanna clicks her tongue a little like she’s doing some mental math.  “Are you going to Rosewood?”

“No!” Emily says a little too quickly, her mouth making the decision before her head has even had the chance too.  “I mean, I don’t think so,” she rephrases.

Hanna sounds smily when she speaks again, “Well, Aria’s visiting her family next week, and I just got a great idea: why don’t you and Aria come to D.C.?  Ali can too, if she wants.  When was the last time we were all in the same place?”

They both know how long it’s been; it’s hard to forget.  Charlotte died just over two years ago, but the events surrounding that time period still loom large for them all.

Emily sighs a little.  Seeing Spencer and Aria sounds like fun, she has to admit, but the reality-check powwow she’d planned to have with Hanna suddenly feels incredibly far away.  And if Ali is there . . . 

Ali can’t be there.  She just can’t.  

Emily tries to make her voice sound neutral.  “Sounds great.  But I don’t think Ali can come.  Dr. Rollins has some important lecture or something.”  The lie tastes awful, but she knows Hanna won’t bother fact-checking.

“Okay, so you and Aria then.  Oh, this’ll be great!  Spence!” she calls behind her.  “The Coven of the Sacred Cocktails is having a reunion tour!”

The joyous boom of laughter spilling into the phone sends a sharp pang straight to the pit in Emily's stomach. 


	3. Chapter 3

It takes two full days in D.C.—two days filled with reminiscing, life updates, laughter, a few stray awkward moments and a lot of alcohol—for Emily to finally come clean about the real reason for her visit.  The four of them are clustered around Spencer and Caleb’s coffee table, Aria and Hanna sharing the couch and Emily and Spencer on cushions on the floor, sipping the drinks Emily made them, when the truth comes out.

She doesn’t mean to say it in that moment.  She’s been looking for a good time to bring it up, certainly, but this is decidedly not that.  Aria is telling a story about her new dog—she’s decided to replace men with a pet for the time being—and Hanna and Spencer are laughing good-naturedly.  The story itself isn’t exactly hilarious, but the general feeling of them all being together brings its own brand of lightness to the room.  

Indeed, Emily thinks, all three of her friends look happier than she’s seen them in a long time: Aria, unshackled by a relationship, has been writing like mad in Boston, working on her first book under her own name; Hanna seems to have finally gotten out of the funk she was in post-Jordan; and Spencer still, miraculously, appears to be in the honeymoon phase of her relationship with Caleb.

They’re all doing well, and Emily was too, until this latest development in her life.

“Guys, I have to tell you something,” she cuts in suddenly, unable to fake it any longer.  “I have some weird news.”  They turn to face her, eyes curious.  Emily takes a big breath.  “Ali wants to have a baby, and she wants to use my eggs.”

“What?!” Aria and Hanna say together.

Emily shrugs a little.  “Yeah, she was in California a couple weeks ago and came and asked me.  I guess hers aren’t viable or something, and she knows that I froze some of mine, and she really, really wants them.”  Emily can’t tell what reaction she’s looking for, because she’s not entirely sure how she feels about the situation.  Does she want her friends to see this as a tremendous opportunity and advocate for her to donate the eggs?  Does she want them to debate the issue? To be outraged on her behalf?  To rail against Ali?

No, no, she doesn’t want that.

Spencer lifts a hand to her chin, rubbing thoughtfully.  “Okay, let me break this down: Ali, our twenty-five-year-old friend who we’ve barely talked to for two years and who is married to the most boring man on earth, wants to have a baby, and the only way she can think to do that is to involve you in the most personal way possible?”

“Well, she _could_ ask Emily to have sex with Dr. Rollins.  That would be more personal,” Hanna chimes in.

“Hanna!” Spencer says sternly, earning a shrug and a smirk from Hanna.

Emily nods.  “Yeah, that’s it in a nutshell.  This is totally crazy, right?  I mean, this is just not a boundary I want to cross.  Is it?” she poses to the shocked faces of her friends.

“Did you have other plans for the eggs?” Aria asks.

Emily considers, then shakes her head.  “No.  I mean, after that couple changed their minds a few months back, I thought about donating my eggs again, like I had the first time, but my mom thought that I should freeze them.  ‘In case something happens,’ she said.  She was really adamant about it—she even leant me the money.”

Hanna claps her hands together.  “Ooh, imagine Pam’s reaction to this!”

Emily drops her head to her hands.  “Don’t even get me started.”  She lifts her head to glare at Hanna.  “And I still don’t like you calling my mom by her first name.”  She groans a little, her head falling back down.  “Oh you guys, what am I going to do?”

“What would you do if any of us asked you?” Spencer asks.  “Honestly.”  Her eyes focus on Emily so intensely that Emily lifts her head again and straightens her posture.

“I would do it,” she answers truthfully.  “I really would.  But with Alison it just feels so complicated.”

Hanna nods empathetically.  “I know all about complicated.”  She shoots a quick look at Spencer, quick enough that Emily almost misses it.

“I love the idea of getting to help someone start a family again, don’t get me wrong,” Emily continues.  “I mean, I look at that picture of Mateo every single day and feel so proud.  Being able to help the Carpenters was one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever done.  Not to mention a major financial help.”

Aria smiles.  “How old is Mateo now?”

Emily feels her eyes growing soft.  “He just turned one.  And his parents are so great.”  She sighs, looking down.  “But that felt really straightforward.  It wasn’t someone I know, there was a contract, all that.  But with Ali—I mean, not only is she my friend, but she’s my friend that I have a very complex past with.”  She pauses before continuing a little guiltily, “And on top of it, I can’t stand her husband.”

“You and me both, sister,” Hanna affirms, moving to clink her glass with Emily’s, who reluctantly raises her own.

“So it sounds like you’ve made your decision,” Spencer says.  She leans forward.  “Emily, these are _your_ eggs.  You froze them for yourself, in case you need or want them someday.  Ali is not entitled to them.”  She takes a breath, as though concerned about how her next comment may land.  “Ali is not entitled to anything from you.”

It’s a bold statement, but one that Emily has spent time recognizing is true.  After Charlotte’s death, Ali was so angry, and though that anger faded, it isolated Ali from her friends in a permanent way.  She could never really forgive them for not forgiving Charlotte, just as they could never really forgive her for expecting them to.

“It’s been tough, with Ali,” Emily admits.  “I’ve tried to reach out to her, and she’s tried too, I think, but something’s changed.  I don’t even know why I told her about freezing my eggs—I think I was just trying to make conversation.  Figures she would hold onto that information to use when she needed it most.”

“Typical Ali,” says Spencer.

That hangs for a moment, before Aria asks, “Why does Ali want to have a baby _now_?”

“My guess?  Her marriage is falling apart, and she thinks a kid will fix it,” Spencer says matter-of-factly.

“Spence, that’s awful,” Emily chastises, though she’s been thinking something similar.

“People do that all the time,” Spencer retorts.

Hanna purses her lips.  “I think it’s more than that,” she begins.  “Ali has lost everything: her parents, her sister.  She has no relationship with Jason.  I don’t believe for one second that she’s totally happy being married to Dr. Snooze.  I think she just needs something for her, something to give her a sense of family.”

“And I could give her that,” Emily says slowly.

“Or someone else could,” Spencer is quick to point out.  “This isn’t on you, Em.”

Emily shakes her head.  “No, it’s not, but what if I could change her life?  What if after all these years I could make Ali happy?”  She immediately hears how that sounds and feels herself flush.  “I—I didn’t mean it like that,” she stammers.

Aria leans over and covers her hand.  “I know what you mean, Emily, and you know what?  I support you if you want to do it.”

Hanna smiles.  “Me too.”

“You guys can’t be serious,” says Spencer.

“I am,” Hanna responds, then turns back to Emily.  “So, gut check: what’s it going to be?”

Emily closes her eyes, steadies herself, takes a breath.  “I think I need to do this.”


	4. Chapter 4

After four days in D.C. spent crammed into Caleb’s tin can of a condo with Aria and Hanna (Caleb moved in with Spencer a year ago, but they’ve held onto his old place as a rental property—or, as it turned out to be this time around, a place for out-of-town guests), the DiLaurentis house looks more sprawling and imposing than ever.  Of all the bizarre choices Ali has made over the past few years, her decision to continue living in the creepy house where she grew up, even after getting married, has to rank as one of the weirdest in Emily’s opinion.  And the fact that Dr. Rollins moved in too . . . well, maybe they do belong together.

Emily wasn’t even planning on coming here.  She was going to just bypass Rosewood and avoid her mom and Ali along with it.  But after coming to this monumental decision—one that she’s reflected on in the sobering light of day, and has decided requires a bit of further discussion—Emily knows that she needs to see Ali.  

And Emily will give credit where credit is due: Ali, despite the frantic tone of her initial plea, has only called Emily once in the two and a half weeks since their conversation in California.  Yet Emily has almost been able to feel the vibes of anxiety and desire (no, not _that_ kind of desire) wafting off of Ali, all the way across multiple state lines.  She knows that she owes her friend an answer.

Emily lingers in the driveway for a few minutes longer than necessary, preparing herself.  She’s never really felt comfortable in this house, always half-expecting Mrs. D. to pop around a corner and offer her tea in a vaguely menacing fashion, even all these years after her death. 

Why didn’t she call first?  When she left D.C. it seemed easier to just have everything happen in person, but now she wishes she’d sent a warning Ali’s way, for both of their sakes.  Oh well, doesn’t matter now.  Emily makes her way out of the car and up the steps.  She takes one last, shaky breath, and knocks on the door.

Dr. Rollins answers immediately, and Emily finds herself both annoyed and grateful for his presence.  “Emily!” he says a little too warmly as he pulls her into a hug.  “What brings you around?”

Emily forces a smile as she angles out of the hug.  “I was in town for an interview,” she says curtly, and well, it’s mostly true.  “How are you, Dr—Elliot?”

He laughs a little at her mistake—she will never, ever be able to refer to him as Elliot in her mind—and nods.  “I’m well, thank you.  Please, come in.  You’re here to see the lady of the house, I presume?”

Emily nods as he leads her inside.  There’s a little sign in the foyer that reads: _Whether you be friend or kin, please remove your shoes before you come in._   Emily does so with a shudder, wondering who the hell Ali has become just as Ali appears beside her, in a manner not unlike her sudden appearance in Emily’s dream.

“Well, if it isn’t Emily Fields,” she says with a grin, though there’s a hint of something sharp in her voice.  “Here I thought you might be avoiding me.”  Emily can feel her defenses rise, but she tries not to let them get the best of her.  All she needs to do is talk with Ali; she hasn’t made any promises yet.

Emily sweeps her eyes over to her friend.  Ali's dressed casually—it is a Saturday, after all—and looks pretty, if a little tense, her gaze flicking between her husband and Emily.  Emily is somewhat comforted by the fact that Ali seems to feel a little awkward in this trio as well.  Dr. Rollins picks up on the feeling, and excuses himself quickly to go work on something or other.

After he departs to his study, Ali leads Emily over to the couch.  “Can I get you anything?” she asks, and Emily shakes her head.

Ali settles down next to her, and they sit like that, in silence, for a few moments.  It’s _awkward_ —Emily has felt awkward around Ali before, but never to this degree.  Finally she clears her throat.  “So, uh, I think you can guess why I came here.”

Ali gives her a sideways glance.  “If your decision is no, Emily, please just say so,” she says coolly.

Emily furrows her brow.  This is, as Spencer would say, typical Ali: she’s the one asking for the favor (the _enormous_ favor), and has somehow turned the situation around so that Emily feels in the wrong.  “I’m not saying no at all,” she responds, attempting to match Ali’s tone, but letting some of her nervous energy slip through.  “I just want to talk about it more.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

Emily shifts her position so that she’s directly facing Ali.  This conversation is not off to a great start, but Emily is not going to let Ali play coy here.  “Ali, this isn’t a trip to the airport you’re asking for here.  This is major, and if I’m going to let you have my eggs I need to know why you want them so badly, and why it has to happen now.”

Alison closes her eyes as though the topic pains her, before opening them very slowly.  When she speaks again her voice is softer, less icy.  “Okay.  I want to have a baby now because I’m ready for something positive and new to come into my family.”  Her eyes travel from her hands up to Emily’s face.  “And I want your eggs, specifically, because you are the most genuinely good person I know, and maybe that means I’ll end up with a kid who’s not . . . like me.”  She smirks a little.  “And also, a kid with your genes would be the most attractive baby on the block.”

Despite the joke, Emily feels a little piece of her heart crack a little at Ali’s words.  She doesn’t think about her next action; she just swiftly and calmly pulls Ali in for a hug, and holds her there for several long seconds.  It’s a rush of every type of emotion to have Ali so close so suddenly, but she pushes all of that down as she pulls away from her.  

Emily shakes off the hug, smiles, and says with certainty, “Let’s make a baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is much appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Emily gets the call late on a Sunday afternoon.  She’s been busily filling out applications for internships all week and working overtime at the bar to pay for travel expenses, so her mind is not at all tracking the Ali of it all until the phone rings.  She feels pretty certain of the news before she even answers, but tries to keep her tone measured as she does.

“I’m pregnant,” Ali says immediately, sounding more shocked than excited.  “I can’t believe it.”

Emily laughs a little and tries to cover it with a cough.  “Really?  You had a fertilized egg implanted into your uterus.”

“I know,” says Ali.  “But that was all pretty theoretical.  Now there’s an actual living _thing_ in there.”

“Congratulations,” Emily says, mustering some enthusiasm. 

She feels a little bad about how distracted she is, but applications are due next week and there’s still a lot for her to get through.  She’s trying to figure out how to get out of the conversation when Ali says, “Can you come stay with me?”

It’s like a record scratch.  Emily puts down the paper she was holding and rolls her eyes.  “Ali, I told you I have to be home now.  I have a lot of work to do.”

“Rosewood is home,” Ali counters, sounding vulnerable and a little miserable.

“Not anymore,” Emily says, instantly regretting how harsh it sounds.  “I mean, just not for me.  Are you okay?  Where’s Dr. Rollins?”

“Elliot,” Ali corrects automatically.  “And he’s at a conference in Scranton.”  She pauses, then clears her throat.  “I, uh, haven’t actually told him yet.”

Emily bites her lip.  This is the exact brand of complicated that she feared her involvement would lead to.  If Ali is trying to set up some warped little triangle here—well, it isn’t going to fly, as far as Emily’s concerned.  “Call your husband.  Tell him the good news,” she instructs.  “This is what you guys wanted!”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line, one that Emily hopes means Ali is considering her advice.  Then Ali says, “Could I come visit you?”

“What?  Ali, no.  You’re pregnant.  You should stay put.”  She knows that’s not necessary at this stage, but the idea of a needy, hormonal Ali invading her finally-put-together California life makes Emily’s skin crawl.

Ali scoffs.  “I’m not an invalid, Emily,” she says a little petulantly.

Emily looks over the papers on her desk, a compromise coming to mind.  “Look, I have an interview in Philly at the end of the month.  Why don’t I swing by Rosewood while I’m there and check in with you?  In the meantime, why don’t you call up one of your friends to come by?”

“Would if I had any left here,” Ali replies darkly, before relenting and saying with gratitude, “The end of the month will be great.  Can’t wait to see you.”

Emily wishes she could say the same without it feeling like a lie.


	6. Chapter 6

On her last visit to Rosewood, Emily did actually end up visiting her mom, but she made sure to keep the visit brief.  They had a quick lunch at The Radley before Emily had to catch her train back to New Jersey, and spent most of it talking about school and Emily’s hopes for the future.  For the first time in a long time, things were looking bright, and Emily was actually happy to share.

She did not mention the eggs.

But now that she finds herself back in Rosewood, and staying at her mom’s house this time— now that Alison is not just wanting her eggs but is actually, actively _pregnant_ because of them— Emily knows she can’t avoid the topic any longer.  She psyches herself up for the conversation with two beers and a quick FaceTime with Spencer, then cooks her mom a nice dinner to start things off right.

Pam is surprised and touched by the gesture, and that makes Emily feel even guiltier; she knows she’s been a pretty absent daughter in the last few years, but every reminder of that hurts a bit.  She pushes the feeling aside though and rights herself for the conversation.

“Mom,” she begins when they’re halfway through dinner, trying to keep her hands from shaking.  “I have something to tell you.”

Unease breaks across Pam’s face, and she appears to swallow, hard.  How many times has Emily made her worry like this?  Too many, Emily knows.  “Is everything okay, honey?”

Emily nods.  “Yeah, I just have some news and I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.”  Pam motions for her to continue so she does so.  “I’m just going to come out and say it: Alison wants to have a baby, and I’ve decided to let her use my eggs.”  She pauses.  No half truths.  “It’s not just that, actually.  She’s actually, um, already pregnant.”

Emily closes her eyes, bracing for impact.  She’s prepared in her mind's eye her mother’s reaction: a feeling of betrayal for Emily giving up the eggs, after Pam paid to have them frozen; disgust at Emily once again giving a part of herself to Ali; confusion as to what this means for her and Ali’s relationship.  They’re all the same concerns Emily’s been twisting over herself.

Pam says none of those things.  She calmly sets down her knife and fork and reaches across the table for Emily’s hand.  “Is this what you want, to help Alison start a family?” she asks gently.

Emily puts her other hand over her mother’s and smiles.  “Yeah, Mom, it really is,” she answers truthfully.  “Look, I know you may not approve, but you’ve got to understand me when I say that I have thought about this, very carefully, ever since she asked me.  And I honestly believe that this is a good thing—for her, and for me.”

Pam takes a big breath, as though summoning something powerful from deep inside.  “Okay,” she says.

“Okay?” Emily repeats with mild confusion.

“Yes, okay.”  There's a bit of hurt in Pam's voice, but there’s some warmth there that Emily didn’t anticipate.  “I wish you would have told me when she first asked you, but I suppose I can understand why you didn’t.  After I pushed you so hard to freeze them—”  She waves whatever upset is there away with her hand.  “But I trust you, Emily, and if you believe this is the right choice, then I support it.”

“Really?” Emily says.

Pam smiles, genuinely, for the first time in this conversation.  “Yes, really.  Now I think you should go visit Alison.  She’s been all alone in that big house and I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“Yeah, she’s already made that clear,” Emily mutters.

Pam raises an eyebrow and seems about to remark on something, then stops herself and says carefully, “I’m glad she sees what I see: that anyone would be lucky to have a baby that’s part Emily.”

Emily looks to her mother, and for the first time, believes it might be true.


	7. Chapter 7

After dinner, Emily moves about her room restlessly, doing the dishes, unpacking her bag, organizing her travel itinerary—doing everything she can to avoid calling Ali.  By the time she’s finished with her tasks it’s only seven forty-five, and she has a feeling that she won’t be able to sleep if she puts it off until morning, so she sits down in her old room and makes the call.

“You want to come over?” Ali asks almost immediately, with a hint of . . . something, teasing maybe, in her voice.  “We could have a sleepover.”  Emily knows she means it as a joke, but she instantly flashes to all of their sleepovers as teenagers when Emily would lay beside Ali anxiously in the dark, mind and body overwhelmed by the effect Ali had on her.

“Sure,” Emily says, surveying her room quickly.  She doesn’t agree to the sleepover outright, but grabs her toothbrush and a sleep shirt just in case.

The DiLaurentis house (she supposes it’s the Rollins house now, though to Emily it will always be the DiLaurentis house) is mostly dark as she walks up.  Emily wonders whether there are certain corners of the house that still feel haunted to Ali.

(She wonders whether there are certain corners of _Ali_ that still feel haunted to Ali.  After all, she did come back from the dead.)

Emily shakes the thought off as she knocks on the door.  Ali answers promptly, looking cheerful, eager even.  For some reason Emily had it in her head that the pregnancy would show somehow—if not physically then in Ali’s general aura—but she seems perfectly normal.  Or as perfectly normal as Ali ever seems.  “Come in,” she greets warmly, ushering Emily inside.  “Can I get you anything?  I’m guessing you already ate.”

“I did,” Emily confirms.  “And I’m fine, thanks.”  She makes her way over to couch—after removing her shoes, of course—and settles into the same spot she found herself in a few weeks earlier.  “How are you?” she asks.

Ali sits down beside her and leans back, then considers thoughtfully.  “Better,” she says as though it just occurred to her how true it is.  “Especially now that you’re here.”  She does this half grin, half wink move that leaves Emily rather bewildered. 

“Well, I’m glad,” Emily responds.  “I was a little worried after our phone call.  I thought you might be having . . . regrets, or something.”

Ali shakes her head.  “Not at all.  It’s just tough sometimes, being so far away from everyone who matters to me.”

Emily cocks an eyebrow.  “Not _everyone_ ,” she observes, nodding toward Ali’s wedding ring.  

Ali’s hand flies to it, almost self-consciously.  She sits up and looks at Emily squarely.  “Em, I want to say something to you and I want you to hear me.  You and I were genuine friends, once upon a time, and I want to get back to that.  Can’t we just cut through all the bullshit and find our way back there?  Before Charlotte died, and before you moved away?  Like when we were kids.”

Emily feels a defense either drop or rise inside her, she can’t quite tell.  She did not anticipate this conversation tonight.  “Ali, we were never just friends though, you know that?” she has to point out.  If Ali wants to get real, they’re going to get real.  “We weren’t and you know it's true.  I mean, maybe when we were very, very young.  But it has always been complicated between us.  You knew how I felt about you and I let you use that against me.  And my heart was always twisted up, wondering—”

“If I felt the same way,” Ali cuts her off.  “I do,” she says quietly, then quickly corrects: “I did.”

Every muscle in Emily’s body tenses, but she pushes forward.  “If we’re going to be friends, I can’t—I can’t feel like there’s some unspoken romantic possibility between us, okay?  It’s not fair to me, or you, or your husband.”  She tries to breathe calmly, to be the bigger person.  “Alison, I would love to be your friend, as long as you are totally honest with me, and as long as we are actually just friends, okay?”

Ali smiles.  “Us being totally honest and us being just friends might be mutually exclusive,” she quips, and Emily hates to admit that a part of her might be right.  “But I want to give it a try.  Especially since I’m having your baby and all.”

“No more sort-of flirting,” Emily instructs.

“You know I’m a natural flirt, Emily.  Can’t help it,” Ali teases, before noting the serious expression on Emily’s face and sobering.  “Got it.  No flirting.  Just friendship.”  She reaches her hand forward to shake Emily’s, and Emily squashes down the little spark she feels when their palms connect.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So full disclosure: I don't know exactly how sports medicine fellowships work, nor do I know how much school Emily had left to complete before she dropped out (if they said it on the show I must have missed it). For the sake of this story please accept my interpretation of both of these things.

Emily returns to California happier than when she left it.  She’d prepared for the trip with a certain amount of dread—both for the important interview and her interactions with her mother and Ali—but comes home feeling relieved and grateful.  The two days she spent with Ali ended up being fun and carefree reminders of the good parts of their friendship, and she feels like something has finally been mended.

Time seems to speed up; exams come and go and Emily pushes through the last quarter of college.  On the night of her “graduation", Ali send her a bouquet of lilies with a note that says, _Way to go, champ.  Proud of you. -xo Ali._

Emily calls Ali as soon as the flowers have arrived, feeling embarrassed and shy.  “You didn’t have to do that.  It’s not like a real graduation,” she insists.

Ali laughs into the phone.  “You completed a level of education.  That sounds like a graduation to me.  Learn how to say thank you, Em.”

Emily can’t help but smile at that.  “Thanks, Ali,” she says softly.

“ _There_ you go!” Ali responds.

Emily surveys her options for various sports medicine programs and decides staying in California is her best bet.  She’s finally feeling settled there, and doesn’t want to uproot her life all over again.  She accepts a fellowship at the University of San Diego and moves into a cute little apartment a few blocks from campus.  Her mom is a little disappointed that she didn’t decide to move back to Rosewood, but she masks it pretty well, emailing Emily tips about great restaurants and things to do in San Diego.

She starts going out again, accepts a few date invitations.  Ever since her breakup with Sabrina a little over a year ago, Emily hasn’t sought anything beyond the occasional one night stand.  But now that she’s settling into a new position, in her sweet new apartment, she thinks maybe it might be nice to come home to someone now and again.

After her third date with Becca, a woman in her fellowship program with piercing green eyes and a really pretty laugh, she gives Ali a call.  “I think I like her,” Emily says, a little mystified to have actually made a connection.

“Have you guys slept together?” Ali asks sharply.

Emily’s taken aback.  “Um, yeah we have actually.”  She pauses.  “Why are you asking me?”

“Just making conversation.  Listen, Elliot’s on his way home.  Got to go.”  Ali’s been like that lately, Emily’s noticed, a little hot and cold.  The pregnancy is apparently going along well.  She’s just entering her second trimester and says that she feels pretty good.  Emily’s had the feeling that there’s something Ali isn’t telling her, but she doesn’t press; they’re finally in a good place and inviting more drama isn’t exactly a priority.

Ali doesn’t call her for a week after that.  Emily doesn’t think much of it.  Ali’s always had the capacity to be moody and the pregnancy certainly hasn’t mellowed that.  Emily has enough other things distracting her.

She isn’t thinking about Ali, or the baby, when she get she call from her mother.  “Emily,” Pam says.  “You have to come home.  It’s Ali.  Something terrible has happened.”


	9. Chapter 9

When Emily sees the DiLaurentis house bordered in police tape, she can’t help but wonder how many times this home has been a crime scene.

She isn’t able to get back to Rosewood until three days after the event, but it still feels pretty fresh, all around her.  People around town are buzzing with the news, and the buzz seems to follow Emily everywhere she goes.

Ali is staying at The Radley, a weird twist of irony given the circumstances.  Apparently Pam had offered her Emily’s room but she’d declined, wanting to be alone.  Emily calls before she comes over, and gets a short, soggy affirmation that Ali would like to see her.

She looks like absolute hell when she answered the door.  Her pretty blonde hair is uncombed and wild around her face, which itself is puffy and tear-streaked.  Emily doesn’t know what to say, so she just pulls Ali into a hug.  Ali stiffens before relaxing and embracing Emily fully.  They go inside.

“I’m so sorry, Ali,” Emily says mournfully, because what else is there to say?  She’s still confused by the sequence of events, but doesn’t want to push if Ali doesn’t feel like talking.

Ali gives her a sideways glance.  “I’m sorry too.  Sorry for letting this man—” 

“You didn’t know,” Emily cuts her off.  “You couldn’t have.”  Though privately, Emily wonders how she couldn’t have.

“You want to know what happened?” Ali asks dryly.

 _Yes_ , Emily thinks, but she says, “Only if you want to tell me.”

Ali takes a big, rattly breath, and begins to speak: “I was doing our taxes and needed some paperwork from Elliot’s study.  He was often very private about that space, but he was out of the house and I thought he wouldn’t mind.  I found this lockbox in there, and I got curious, and then I got paranoid.  I looked everywhere for the key, and finally I found it hidden in a cutout in a book.  At this point I started to get afraid, because what would he have gone through all this trouble to hide from me?  I opened the box, and it was filled with letters between him and Charlotte.  Love letters, sort of.”  At this she exhales wetly.  “Except I don’t think she felt the same way.  He kept saying that once she got out they could be together, and then in her letters she would try to protest, but he wouldn’t listen.  In the last few he started to get angry and threatening.

“I confronted him about the letters when he got home, and he said it was all a misunderstanding, that it was all in the past.  Of course I didn’t believe him, and I said if he didn’t tell me the truth I would have to go to the cops.  I asked if he killed her, and he said nothing.

“The next morning I found him on our bathroom floor.  He’d taken an overdose of pills, and he left a note.  A confession.  He killed her.  He killed her because she rejected him, and then he tried to make it look like a suicide.  And then—and then I married the son of a bitch.”

By the end Ali looks exhausted.  Emily’s brain is swimming with questions, but she’s too overwhelmed to organize them, and Ali doesn’t seem to be in any state to answer.  “You want to cuddle?” she offers quietly.  Ali nods and they move over to the lush kingsize bed.  

Emily holds Ali until the tears stop coming; until sleep can find and carry her away from all of this.


	10. Chapter 10

“This is so fucking creepy!” Hanna exclaims loudly over the FaceTime call.

“Hanna!” Emily whisper-yells.  “I’m still in her hotel room.  Keep it down.”

“Sorry,” Hanna says with a hand wave.  She pulls on her shoes and adjusts the collar of her dress.  “What do you think of this?  I just got it.”  The collar has little spikes of different metallic shades embellished on it, golds and silvers and bronzes.

“It’s fine,” Emily says with an eye roll.  “Whatever.  Look, are you coming out here?  Ali could use some company out here, and I can't stay much longer."

Hanna glances up at something offscreen, seeming to be making eye contact with someone.  “What’re you looking at?” Emily asks, feeling a little frustrated but not for any particular reason.

It’s been two days since she got here, two days of holding Ali’s hand, helping her through the motions of being a recent widow, and getting bits of the Dr. Rollins suicide story piecemeal.  She’s starting to feel a little agitated, ready for some new energy.  But it’s confusing; Emily also feels that she absolutely needs to be right here, alongside Ali.  And yet she knows that she’ll need to head back to San Diego soon.  The fellowship, her apartment, Becca—they all need her home.

“Nothing,” Hanna responds.  “I’m sorry, Em, I can’t.  Work stuff.”  She pauses and looks offscreen again.  “I don’t think Spencer can either.”

“Is she there with you?” Emily asks, tired of feeling out of the loop.

Hanna makes an unreadable expression.  Her demeanor stiffens.  “No.  Listen, I’ve got to go.  I’m sorry.  I’ll call you later, okay?”  The screen goes black.

Emily sighs and is just about to leave the bathroom with her phone when it rings again.  “Hi Aria,” she answers gratefully.

“Emily, this is so awful,” Aria says, sounding concerned.  “I can’t believe it.”

Emily presses a hand to her forehead, feeling a bit of tension release.  “I know, it really is.”  She leans against the counter, happy for the support.  

“How’s Ali?” Aria asks, then continues, “That’s a silly question, probably.”

“No, it’s not,” Emily assures her.  “She’s having a really hard time.  Aria—”  She’s about to ask Aria if she can come help when she hears Ali call her name.

“Are you okay?” Aria asks.  Emily lies and says she is, then tells Aria that Ali is calling.  “She’s so lucky to have you there.  I know how much she needs you,” Aria says.  Emily feels a stab of resentment shoot through her; of course she comes when she’s called, of course she’s here, and none of the rest of them are.

But after she hangs up and opens the door, she feels the resentment instantly melt away.  Ali is curled up on the bed, looking incredibly small, trying to smile.  “I didn’t mean to rush you,” she murmurs.  “I just didn’t know where you were.  Who were you talking to?”

“Hanna, then Aria,” Emily answers, moving toward the bed to sit on the edge.

“Are they coming out here?” Ali asks.

Emily shrugs.  “I don’t know,” she says truthfully, an idea starting to form in her mind.

Ali sits up and scoots closer to Emily.  “Honestly, I’m kind of glad it’s just you here.  I can’t be like this in front of the others.”  She gestures to her current state, wrapped in a bathrobe, hair still a mess and eyes puffy.

Emily purses her lips, stealing herself.  She might as well throw it out there.  “Ali, I have to go back to work in a couple of days.  I just started this fellowship and I can’t miss anymore time.”

Ali’s small smile drops.  “Oh.”  She nods.  “Of course, that makes sense.”  She moves back toward the headboard and shakes her hair back.  “I really appreciate you coming out here.”

Emily reaches a hand out and catches Ali’s wrist.  “Hey,” she says.  “I want to throw an idea out there.  Apparently the second trimester is the best time for a pregnant woman to travel.”  Ali quirks her lip, seeming to like that Emily knows that.  “So I was thinking, do you want to get out of Rosewood for a bit and come stay with me in California for a week or so?  I’d have to work a lot, but I think it would be good for you.”

Emily isn’t sure whether it’s a horrible idea or a great one, but she can’t stand the thought of leaving Ali in this state, and she’d like to show her her California life.

Emily looks at Ali’s reaction, and is happy to see that she seems a bit perked up.  “Are you sure you want a pregnant widow sitting around your apartment?” she asks, a thin sliver of hope in her tone.

Emily shifts up on the bed and fully grabs Ali’s hand.  “Yes,” she says emphatically, the truth in it dawning as she speaks.  “As long as it doesn’t feel too soon for you.”

Ali shakes her head.  “It kind of sounds wonderful,” she whispers.  “I’m really coming to dislike this town.”  She scoffs bitterly.  “I’m so glad we aren’t having a funeral.”  Ali looks back to Emily, eyes wide.  “When can we get out of here?”


	11. Chapter 11

If this were just a normal visit to see Emily’s new apartment, she might feel a little self-conscious showing Ali around.  Emily loves her new place, but it’s admittedly not much bigger than the renovated closets in the DiLaurentis home, and it certainly doesn’t have any of the bells and whistles—the marble countertops, the heated floor—that Ali is surely accustomed to.

But this is not a normal visit.  This is a visit based on grief and escapism, and as that stands Emily cannot be preoccupied with something as trivial as the size of her apartment.  Ali, for her part, comments that the place is “cute” and feels “very Emily”, observations that could be read as back-handed were Emily in a petty mood.  She chooses to interpret them as genuine compliments.

Emily’s made her bed up for Ali without a second thought and has pulled out the futon for herself.  It certainly eats up most of the floor space, but her bed is not The Radley’s bed; there is no way they can comfortably share it without being completely intertwined.  And Emily’s not about to go down that rabbit hole right now.

After they’ve dropped off their bags and Emily’s given Ali the thirty-second tour, they go out to dinner.  Emily realized with a bit of embarrassment that there was nothing to eat in the apartment, but Ali seemed to like the idea of going out, so out they go.

They haven’t really spoken about the Rollins of it all since boarding the plane, and Emily’s decided to let Ali take the lead in that regard.  It’s only when they’re just finishing their meals that Ali sets her glass down, fixes Emily with a meaningful look, and says, “You’re probably wondering how I could have not known for all this time.”

Emily shrugs noncommittally, and Ali continues, “I’ve been wondering the same thing myself.  And what I’ve come down to is this: I had no family, and he offered me one, so I took it.  We got married so fast, and it was a happy marriage some of the time.  But we never really knew one another.  If I’d been—” her voice breaks a little here, “—if I’d been more discerning, kept my wits about me, I could have figured it out.  He wasn’t a great liar.  But I let myself be blinded, because of what I wanted.”  She pauses and studies Emily carefully.  Ali isn’t tearful now, she’s watchful.  “You did the same thing, you know?”

“With Dr. Rollins?” Emily replies, confused.

Ali doesn’t bother correcting the name.  She just shakes her head.  “No, with me.  You wanted me to be someone that I wasn’t really, so you made yourself only see the parts of me that you wanted.  You were always my best champion.”

Emily shifts in her seat, feeling uncomfortable.  She doesn’t like Ali comparing herself to Dr. Rollins, just as she doesn’t like being compared to Ali.  “I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”

Ali shoots her a half-smile.  “You don’t have to say anything.”

It feels like an echo of a thousand conversations they’ve had before, where Ali would drop something heavy and devastating, leaving Emily to reexamine every interaction between them—to reexamine even herself.  She feels hyper self-aware all of a sudden, and is conscious to put a lot of space between them as they rise from the table and make their way to the car.

“Have I upset you?” Ali asks as Emily wordlessly lets them back into the apartment.

Emily swivels to face her after closing the door behind them.  “Not really,” she answers, unsure if it’s a lie or not.  “Just . . . just made me think, I guess.”

“I have a habit of doing that,” Ali says in a voice that seems to indicate they’re not going to discuss it further.  She makes her way over to the oval mirror hanging on Emily’s wall and runs her fingers through her hair.  She brushed it before they left for the airport, but it still doesn’t look as perfectly put-together as it usually does.  “You know what I just decided?  I’m not going to shed anymore tears for that bastard.  Not a one.”  She nods affirmatively and Emily nods back in return, looking down.  Ali gives her a strange look.  “You shouldn’t think too much about what I said, Em.  Who knows what I meant by it.”

Emily feels awkward and exposed all at once, standing in her own home that Ali has somehow commanded.  She quickly excuses herself to get ready for bed, and settles in for a long, sleepless night.


	12. Chapter 12

Emily wakes up from the bit of sleep she got to the smell of bacon and something sweet, possibly pancakes.  For a moment she’s frightened that someone broke into her apartment and is cooking, before remembering that Ali is there.

She rises from the couch and makes her way to the kitchen, where Ali is busily setting out plates and glasses of orange juice.  “Did you go to the store?” Emily asks.

“Yeah,” Ali replies with a small grin.  “I woke up early and went to that little store down the road.  Cute place.  I told the clerk I was staying with Emily Fields and she said that they love you over there.”  Emily knows the clerk she’s talking about, a sweet older woman who reminds Emily of her grandmother.  Ali continues, “The baby always wants breakfast food, it seems.”

“Do you want help?” Emily offers, aware that her helping in the kitchen is likely to cause a small fire.

“Nope, you can just keep me company.”  Emily sits at one of the kitchen stools and watches Ali bustle about her kitchen.  She looks at home there, in a way that Emily finds more endearing than troublesome.  Ali moves about, flipping bacon and pancakes, scrambling eggs together in a little bowl.  In no time they’re eating a truly delicious breakfast.

“Where’d you learn to cook like this?” Emily asks around a mouthful of eggs.

“To make eggs and pancakes?  Not exactly hardcore cooking, Em.” Ali teases.  “I learned to get kind of creative with food when I was, y’know.”  _Not dead_ is the phrase hanging between them.  Neither feels the need to say it.  “And then when I got married, I figured, hey, why not play the part.  I actually really enjoy cooking, I’ve found.”

Emily smiles and sips her juice.  “Well, I could get used to this.  I never have time to cook, and if I did, it probably wouldn’t turn out that well.”

“I can teach you a few things,” Ali says with a wink, and Emily’s pretty sure she’s flirting a little now.  She decides to give Ali a pass, on account of her current circumstance and all.

“I have to go back to work today, in just a couple of hours,” Emily says regretfully.  She’s feeling a little more comfortable around Ali now, and realizing how nice it is to have someone in her space.  She kind of wishes they could spend the day sight-seeing or something.  “Do you need anything?”

Ali shakes her head.  “No, I’ll be fine.  Looking forward to exploring a little bit.  Any recommendations?”  Emily writes down the name of a couple of parks for her before helping clean up and getting ready for work.

It’s a long, grueling day, and she doesn’t get done until late.  Emily’s getting ready to leave work and contemplating what take-out place to pick up for them when someone taps her on the shoulder.  It’s Becca.  _Oh shit_ , Emily had totally forgotten to tell her she was back in town.  And now she looks like a total ass because Becca probably saw her around at work all day.

“Hey, stranger,” Becca says warmly.  “How’s it going?”

“It’s going okay.  Sorry I didn’t text you when I got back, I just got in last night.”  Emily has that weird feeling again where she knows she isn’t lying but feels like she is.

Becca smiles and lightly touches her arm.  “Hey, it’s okay.  Do you want to get some dinner tonight?” 

Emily thinks of Ali, all alone in the apartment, then flashes to Ali curled up in bed at The Radley.  She can’t leave her.  “I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck?”  She’s aware that she’s apologized to Becca twice in less than two minutes, and it doesn’t feel great.  “My friend, the one I went to visit, she came back to town with me and I really need to stay with her tonight.  She’s going through a family tragedy.”

Becca nods understandingly.  “Okay.  Well, give me a call when you get the chance.”  She grins, her voice dropping a couple of octaves.  “I’ve missed you.”

Emily gets to her car in a hurry.  She doesn’t know what’s going on.  She likes Becca, truly, but in that moment all she wanted to do was get away.  The drive home is quick, and when she unlocks the door the house smells even better than when she left it.  In that moment Emily realizes that in her preoccupation she forgot the take-out, but she has a feeling Ali made do.

Ali’s once again in the kitchen, and she smiles wide when she sees Emily.  “Hey, how was your day?” she asks, stirring something in a pot on the stove.  “I thought I’d make myself useful and cook dinner.”

Emily makes her way to the kitchen, feeling extremely grateful for the woman standing in it.  “My day was long.  How was yours?”

Ali turns around and Emily is aware of how close they are all of a sudden.  She takes a step back to steady herself against the counter top, but Ali grabs her wrist to tug her closer and lifts a spoon to Emily’s lips.  “Taste,” she instructs, before saying, “My day was actually really nice.  I did a little shopping, some cooking, went for a long walk.  What do you think?”

The sauce is delicious, a creamy, herby concoction that instantly makes Emily’s stomach groan.  “This is so good,” she says.  “Does it go on pasta?”

“You got it!” Ali says in mock pride.  “Grab a plate.”  Emily does as she’s told, feeling more relaxed than she has in a long, long time.


	13. Chapter 13

It kind of goes on like that for a few more days, Ali cooking for them and spending her days exploring the city, Emily working long hours and coming home tired and hungry, the two of them sharing conversation and meals in the mornings and evenings.  Emily learns that Ali, in addition to learning to cook, can also crochet now, and has become nearly fluent in French.  Emily shares with Ali that she’s learned to surf, knows a ton of Latin names for animals, and can make a damn good drink out of just about an type of liquor.  

“And,” she shares shyly one night after a couple of beers, “I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue.”  She’s not sure why she says it, but the flush it brings to Ali’s face feels like a victory.

Another night, after another tasty meal and some good conversation, Ali remarks, “I don’t know if I ever want to go back to Rosewood.  I’m thinking of sending in my resignation papers, actually.”

Emily isn’t sure if the implication there is that Ali would move _here_ , but she can completely understand why Ali would want to leave Rosewood.  “I support you in that,” she says earnestly.  “I think you can even hire people to send your stuff to different places.  If you want to spend that kind of money.”

“Oh, money is no problem,” Ali says automatically, before realizing how that sounds and rephrasing, “I just mean, I’ve got a lot of inheritance.”  That’s another interesting thing: Ali seems more sensitive to other people, more considerate.  Emily starts to realize that as much as she imagined she’d be taking care of Ali, in many ways Ali is the one taking care of her.

“If you want to move to San Diego, I’d love to have you here,” she says a few nights later.  “The apartment’s too small for us both, but I like having you around.”  Ali smirks a little, satisfied, but just says, “Okay.”

Becca becomes an unfortunately casualty of having Ali around.  Emily finds that as much as she enjoys her, there’s only so many hours in the day.  It’s hard to prioritize a relationship when she has so much work to do, and coming home to a cooked meal and a lively conversation turns out to be more fun and easier than going out to eat with someone she barely knows.  She imagines that perhaps in time, once Ali moves out and into her own place (if she decides to stay) then Emily will try dating again.

A few weeks pass.  Ali officially gives notice and starts looking for teaching positions in the area.  Emily helps her find a good OB/GYN, one Ali really likes, and Ali asks if Emily wouldn’t mind going to the appointments with her.  Emily doesn’t.

One night Emily comes home from work and Ali looks a little pensive.  The hairs on the back of Emily’s neck immediately stand up; she doesn’t think either of them can handle another disaster.

Ali asks her to sit down. "I have a proposition for you," she says. "And it's kind of crazy."

"Careful," Emily says, trying to inject some lightness into the suddenly heavy room.  "Last time you propositioned me, you ended up pregnant."  She flushes, realizing how that sounds.  "I didn't mean—"

“I really love living with you,” Ali cuts in.  “And between my sister, my father, and my S.O.B. husband I have a fair amount of wealth, so I was wondering: if I bought a house, would you move in with me?”


	14. Chapter 14

Ali assures her that she doesn’t need an answer right away, but Emily can sense that she’s anxious for one.  She’s gone out a couple of times this week and come back with flyers shoved in her bag, the kind one might get from a real estate agent.  Emily knows that Ali wants more than anything to get her life in order, to finally have some semblance of home, of family.  She knows this because she wants the same things.

Her reasons for being pensive are the Spencer reasons, which is to say, the things she knows Spencer would bring up if they were to talk about this.  She decides to go straight to the source and calls Spencer on her lunch break one day.  

Spencer answers on the third ring.  “Em!  Hey, glad to hear from you.”  She sounds tired but cheerful.  Emily pictures her surrounded by papers at her desk, or juggling the phone and a coffee on her way out the door.

“Is this an okay time?” Emily asks, part of her hoping Spencer will put the kibosh on the conversation all together.

“No, no, it’s fine.  What’s going on?”

Emily sort of loves Spencer for getting right to the point, for understanding that idle chitchat is not what Emily is seeking.  “So . . . Ali’s here.  She’s staying with me.”  She’s not sure how in the loop Spencer is right now; they haven’t spoken in a couple of months.

“I know.  She told me.”

This surprises Emily.  “You’re in contact with Ali?”

“From time to time,” Spencer says with a smile in her voice.  “She’s been warmer with me lately.  I think you’re making her happy.”  The implication in that hits them both at the same time.  “I didn’t mean like that, Em,” Spencer rushes to correct.

“It’s fine,” Emily says.  If Spencer isn’t intimating things now, she surely will be by the end of this conversation.  “Um, she actually wants to get a house here.  And she wants me to live with her.”  There’s a long silence on the other end and Emily can just see Spencer rolling her eyes.  “You alive over there, Spence?”

“Do you feel taken advantage of?” Spencer asks bluntly.

Emily feels herself bristle a little at that, but takes a second to exhale slowly through her nose.  She knows that Spencer says it out of love, and concern, not because of some age-old rivalry with Ali.  “No,” she answers sincerely.  “I don’t.  But I also don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Why do you think it might not be a good idea?”

Leave it to Spencer to ask the question Emily most fears the answer to.  There are a million possibilities, but there’s one they both know is probably true, or at least has a kernel of truth to it.  A potential truth.  “Emily?” Spencer prompts.

Emily’s eyes flutter closed, and she’s dismayed to feel some moisture there.  “What if—what if being in that space with her, I start to feel things?”

Spencer exhales, and Emily thinks she hears her shuffle to sit down.  “You’re afraid she’s going to hurt you again.”

“I don’t think she has that power over me anymore, but I’m scared to find out.”  Emily has to keep her voice low to stop from breaking down into tears in the middle of the cafeteria.  After all these years, Ali still holds a part of her hostage.  It’s terrifying and poignant and romantic, all at once.  She thinks Aria would have something most poetic to say about it.

“Do you want to live with her?  If all of this wasn’t an issue?” Spencer asks.

Emily nods against the phone before murmuring, “Yeah, I think so.  I like living with her.”

Spencer is silent for a long time, and then she says something most surprising.  “I think you should go for it, Em.  You never know, people can surprise you if you put their trust in them.”

Emily sits back in her chair.  “I’m sorry, can you put Spencer on the phone, please?”

Spencer coughs out a laugh.  “I’ve learned this recently.  Maybe trust and hope aren’t the worst things in the world.”

“I thought hope breaded eternal misery,” Emily says with a hint of sass.

“Maybe joy and misery are closer neighbors than we thought,” Spencer says.

Emily hangs up feeling emotional and bewildered, but certain of one thing.  When she goes home that night, she greets Ali with a smile.  “Hey,” she says, feigning casualness.  “Can you show me those flyers?  I want to help pick out our house.”

Ali grins wider than Emily’s seen in a long, long time.  “Really?” she says, seeming impossibly young.

“Really,” Emily confirms.  Ali pulls her into a hug, and they spend the evening mapping future plans.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think this is the longest chapter. You'll understand why.

Emily’s amazed at how quickly it happens—one day they’re merely debating a couple of homes, mulling over the options, and the next, they actually have a house: a beautiful, two story house with three bedrooms and two bathrooms and a yard.  Her commute is only ten minutes longer, and it’s pretty close to the two schools Ali’s been deciding between.

Moving isn’t too bad, considering Emily did it just a few months prior.  The big challenge is getting Ali’s stuff in—Ali has lots of opinions about where things should go, but she’s just under six months pregnant now, so moving things herself is a challenge.  Or, rather, Emily finds she has trouble letting Ali move things.  She figures its sort of her baby in there; she feels pretty invested in the outcome.

But finally, they find themselves moved in, and settled, and Ali decides they need to have a house-warming party with Aria, Spencer, Hanna and Caleb.  It gives her something positive to focus on, a new next project, which has seemed to be an integral part of her grieving process.

Emily’s in charge of reaching out to their friends, and she works a little bit of guilt into the conversations, pointing out that none of them have been to see Ali since she got pregnant, or since her husband died.  It’s been a busy half a year.  They have some catching up to do. 

It doesn’t take too much convincing.  

Hanna, Spencer and Caleb arrive from D.C. early one morning, with Aria coming in from Boston a day later.  Ali initially wanted to have everyone stay at the house, but Emily pointed out just how much hostessing that would require in their new house, so their friends instead stay at a nearby hotel.  When they all arrive the evening of the party and Emily can hug them properly, can actually see the creases of their smiles lines and the laughter in their eyes, she realizes she hasn’t been this happy in a while.

Ali’s been feeling a little ill all day, the excitement of the last few weeks getting to her, so Emily stays close beside her all evening, getting her food and beverages, bringing her a sweater at one point, helping finish the funny story she has to share about their new neighbors.  At one point when Ali’s in the bathroom and Emily’s refilling the snacks, she sees something bizarre in the alcove by the front door.

Caleb and Hanna are kissing.

Emily can’t believe it, even shakes her head in disbelief.  Spencer is touring the upstairs with Aria, and there Caleb and Hanna are.  _Kissing_.  Not just kissing, but full-on making out.  In the alcove where they apparently think they’re invisible.

Caleb goes to get another drink and Emily takes the opportunity to drag Hanna to the upstairs bathroom.  “Um, what the hell are you doing?” Hanna asks, annoyed.

“Hanna,” Emily begins warily once the door is closed.  “I saw you and Caleb.  You guys were all over each other.  What’s going on?  Is he cheating on Spencer with you?”

Hanna puffs out a big breath.  “No, Em,” she says, sounding a little bothered.  “He’s not cheating on Spencer with me.”

Emily gives Hanna her best disappointed look.  “Please don’t lie to me.  I _saw_ you guys.  Look, if you’re still mad at Spencer for getting together with Caleb, this is not the way to go about it.”

“Oh my god, that is so not what’s happening.  Look, Em, I’ll explain everything.  Let me just get Spencer and Caleb first.”  With that, she leaves the bathroom and rushes out into the hallway, where Spencer and Aria are talking.  Emily follows behind lamely, confused and more than a little frustrated.

Hanna grabs Spencer’s hand—“Um, hi Hanna!” Aria says with more than a little displeasure—and spots Caleb coming up the stairs.  She grabs his hand too and pulls them both behind her with a sense of urgency, Emily in tow.  Back to the bathroom they find themselves.  “Well, this is cozy,” Caleb quips when the door is closed.

Hanna’s eyes volley between them, and Emily studies all three faces before her.  Hanna looks concerned, guilty perhaps, Spencer looks confused, and Caleb looks . . . like Caleb.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Emily poses to the group.  She’s sandwiched between the sink and Spencer’s arm, and the tension in the room is reaching deafening levels.

Hanna takes a large breath and raises a hand to the side of her neck, beginning to rub the skin there.  “Emily saw Caleb and I together,” she murmurs, seemingly to Spencer.

Spencer’s eyebrows shoot up in recognition.  “So you’re confused,” she says to Emily, who nods emphatically.  Spencer licks her lips, eyes darting between Hanna and Caleb, before exhaling.  “Emily,” she says slowly, “Hanna lives with Caleb and I.”

Emily furrows her brow.  “Okay . . . ?”  That’s weird, and seems awkward for Hanna, but she’ll keep that thought to herself for now.

Caleb steps toward her a little.  “That’s not all,” he continues, putting a reassuring hand on Spencer’s arm.  “We live together, because we’re in a relationship.  Together.”

“All three of us,” Hanna clarifies.

Emily’s mouth drops open and her eyes widen.   _What?!_ she thinks  “What?!” she says.

“Yeah,” Hanna continues.  “I came out to visit a while back, and we just all had such a nice time together, and then I moved to D.C., and we kept having a nice time, and eventually . . . I mean, my feelings for Caleb never really went away, and then I started to develop feelings for Spencer.”

Spencer picks up the story from there.  “Hanna and I started spending a lot of time together, and I developed, y’know, feelings for her too, I guess.  But it became more than that.  And when I spoke to Caleb about it—”

“I think she gets the picture,” Caleb cuts in, flushing a little.

“Sorry,” Spencer says sheepishly.  “It’s just been hard not to talk about.”

“No one knows?” Emily asks, and all three nod.  She swallows, gathering her thoughts.  “Are you guys, like, all in love with one another?”  Another solemn nod from the group.  She shuts her eyes, trying to wrap her brain around this.  “And you’re happy?”

Hanna smiles and puts an arm around Caleb’s midsection, who in turn wraps an arm around her shoulders.  “Yeah, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

Something thaws inside Emily at that.  She looks at her friends, and has to admit that they all look not just happy, but comfortable.  Settled.  And they have for awhile.  “Alright,” she says.  “Then I’m happy for you.”

“Really?” Spencer says with a hopeful grin.

Emily nods.  “I mean, I’m surprised, and a little confused.  But you guys seem, y’know, good together.  So I support it.”  She laughs a little.  “Wow, who knew so many of us would turn out to be queer.”

“Yeah, just Aria as the lone straight girl,” Hanna says with a laugh.  “And not just queer, but incestuous too.  I mean, me and Spencer, you and Ali—”  She claps a hand over her mouth, just as Spencer groans, “Oh _Hanna_.”

“Not really me and Ali though,” Emily is quick to point out, but Hanna rolls her eyes.  “What?” Emily poses to her.

Spencer smiles tightly.  “Look, we weren’t going to say anything,” she says pointedly, eyes focusing to Hanna.  “But now that _this_ is out in the open," she gestures between them, "you can tell us, Emily.”

“Tell you what?”

Spencer looks side to side as though it’s obvious.  “About you and Ali.”

Emily feels her blood turn to ice.  “What are you talking about?” she asks, voice thick.

Caleb taps the hand still on Spencer on her wrist.  “I told them it’s none of our business, but Spencer and Hanna seem to think that you and Alison are together.”

“Because you guys so are!” Hanna interjects.

“We’re not though!” Emily insists.

Spencer looks confused.  “I just figured—after our conversation, I figured you’d talked to Ali.  You guys are so touchy and sweet, I just thought—”

“Talked to Ali about what?” Emily asks lowly, feeling a little nauseous.

A look passes between Hanna and Spencer, and Hanna says slowly, “You know, Em, you should probably talk to Ali about this.”

As if on cue, Ali’s voice comes filtering up the stairs: “Em?  You up there?”  Hanna, Spencer and Caleb file out of the bathroom wordlessly, leaving Emily alone with her terrible uncertainty.


	16. Chapter 16

Emily puts off talking to Ali until after the party.  She doesn’t even really know what it is they need to talk about, but she’s started to piece some things together since her bizarre bathroom info dump.  As soon as everyone has left, Emily stops Ali from picking up cups and asks her to sit down.

“That was a fun party,” Ali observes sleepily.

“Did you talk to Spencer about me?” Emily asks hurriedly, unable to keep the calm act up any longer.

Ali looks suddenly awake and sits up on the couch.  “What?” she says, voice brittle.

Emily stops pacing around the coffee table and comes to sit beside her.  “I had a conversation with Spencer where she . . . implied something, I guess, about you and I.  Made it sound like maybe you’d talked to her about me.  What did you say?”

Ali looks down at her hands, then back up at Emily.  “See, we’re coming around to our mutually exclusive problem again,” she says wryly.  “I can’t be honest and can’t remain only friendly at the same time.”

“Please don’t make jokes now!” Emily barks out, sounding harsher than she intended.  “I’m sorry,” she amends.  “Just—what are you talking about?”

Ali sighs, eyes growing grave.  “I may have mentioned to Spencer that it would be very easy for me to fall in love with you, in our current set up.”

“But that’s a hypothetical,” Emily points out, feeling like she sounds a little crazed as she pushes past the word _love_.  “It’s not real.”

Ali leans forward.  “I don’t know.  It feels pretty real, Em.”  It’s the exact opposite of everything Ali used to say: that their kisses didn’t matter, that it was all for practice.  

Emily’s head is swimming, and her eyes start to burn a little.  She glances down at Ali’s bump.  “Do you want me to be a part of your baby’s life?” she asks suddenly.

Ali looks taken aback by the question and merely nods.  “Absolutely.”

“Then we can’t get involved.  At least not right now.  You’re so raw from this marriage, and I’m still getting used to having you so far back in my life.  If we get involved now, we’re going to hurt each other and that baby.”  She says this all without looking at Ali, realizing the truth in her statements as she goes on.  She doesn’t think she can bear to meet her eyes.

Ali doesn’t say anything for several long minutes.  Then finally, in a very small voice, she says, “Is that what you want?  To just be roommates who take care of a baby together?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she insists, heart aching.  “I’m not saying this is forever, just for now.”

Ali rises from the couch, and Emily finally dares to look at her face.  She looks broken, eyes filling with tears.  Emily can’t believe how much this seems to mean to her.  She hasn’t seen Ali cry since the days following Dr. Rollins’ death.  “I understand.  It was just nice to hope, you know?” Ali murmurs.

Emily nods.  She gets that.  “Goodnight, Em,” Ali says softly.

“Goodnight, Ali,” Emily replies roughly, and Ali slips upstairs into the darkness.


	17. Chapter 17

Spencer, Hanna and Caleb all have to return home pretty quickly, but Aria is able to stick around for a few extra days.  Emily is immensely grateful for her presence in the wake of her conversation with Ali.  Things have been cordial between them, but not nearly as warm as they were just a few days earlier.

On Aria’s last day, Ali goes to her first OB/GYN appointment solo—her request—while Aria and Emily get lunch.  Emily isn’t doing a great job of masking her sadness, but she makes an effort, asking Aria about her writing (the new book is coming along well), her dog (adorable, and currently staying with neighbors), and her love life (a promising prospect or two, but nothing serious).

When Emily’s finally exhausted all of her questions, she feels the veil slipping a little bit.  Aria looks at her carefully.  “Em, what’s going on with you and Ali?” she asks gently.  “I’m not asking for gossip, I’m asking because I care about you.”

Emily looks at her friend, allowing herself to finally feel the tiredness that’s been underneath the surface for the past few days.  “I don’t know,” she answers wearily.  “I think she wants us to be romantic, but I can never really tell with her, and it’s just not a good time right now.”

Aria tilts her head.  “Why not?”

Emily doesn’t know if Aria’s playing devil’s advocate or genuinely doesn’t see a problem, but she finds the response more than a little frustrating.  “Oh, I don’t know, Aria, maybe because she’s recently widowed and pregnant and I finally have my life together and don’t want her to ruin me,” she snaps.  “I’m sorry,” she says quickly.  “It’s been a rough few days.”

Aria reaches across the table and grabs Emily hand.  “Hey, I’m on your side,” she assures.  “It just seems like you two have been circling each other for years, and maybe you just have to go for it.  Maybe there isn’t a perfect time.  If it’s meant to be, isn’t the effort worth it?”

Emily smiles.  Aria’s romantic outlook has always baffled her a bit, but at times it’s almost inspiring.  “I don’t know,” she says for the third time in this conversation.  “With Ali, I’m not ever sure where I stand.”

“She loves you,” Aria says with certainty.  “I used to think it was just platonic, but now I think it might be more.”

“What makes you think that?”

Aria rubs Emily’s hand, her dark nails contrasting with Emily’s bright ones.  Ali picked the color for the party: _No Room for the Blues_.  The name feels like it’s mocking her now.  “I saw the way she looked at you at the party,” Aria says.  “You’ve become her world.”

Emily sighs.  “It’s just not a good time right now,” she repeats.

Aria shrugs.  “Maybe not,” she concedes.  “Just keep an open mind.”

They swing by the doctor's office to pick up Ali, then drive Aria to the airport.  Aria makes most of the conversation in the car, talking animatedly about the difference between Boston and San Diego.  Emily hugs her tightly when it’s time for her to go, whispering, “Thank you,” into Aria’s hair.

The drive back feels long and quiet.  Just before they turn onto their street, Ali says lowly, “I think you need to get out there.  Try to date a little.”

Emily almost swerves the car, she’s so surprised.  “Is that what you want?” she asks in a measured tone, echoing Ali’s words last night.

“Yep,” Ali says with absolutely no enthusiasm.  Emily parks the car and they go inside without another word about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily's nail color is real. It's a very pretty shade of blue by OPI.


	18. Chapter 18

The next several weeks pass tensely, but without incident.  Ali continues to do most of the cooking, though she develops a new habit of going out for walks right around the time Emily needs to get up, leaving plates of food covered in saran wrap in the fridge.  One upgrade of their new place is that Ali has invested in cable, so they now spend evenings watching some show or another, laughing stiffly at the funny parts and refusing to look at one another at the emotional ones.

Emily does take Ali’s advice; she calls Becca and invites her out again.  Becca appreciates the invitation and the two go out on a few more dates.  It’s fun and light, nothing too serious, but a pleasant distraction.  Emily also goes on a few dates with a woman who works at a coffee shop she frequents; that relationship—if it can even be categorized as such—feels even less consequential, but it’s kind of nice to not be too focused in one direction.  And Becca seems to have no desire to be exclusive, nor does coffee shop girl, so it works out well.

Ali gets a job as a substitute with the district.  She wants to move into a permanent position eventually but with her impending need for maternity leave a temporary position seems to be the way to go.  Emily tries to ask her about the new job, what the kids and the school are like, earning clipped, one-word answers in response.

The frigid treatment she’s receiving from Ali has inspired Emily to reach out to her other friends.  Hanna and Spencer seem much more willing to be in consistent contact now that their secret is out in the open, and Emily starts FaceTiming the two of them weekly.  She decides in the spirit of truthfulness to keep them abreast of the situation with Ali.

“This is exactly the sort of reason why I thought us living together would be a bad idea,” Emily sighs during one such conversation, beating either of them to some type of “I told you so.”  “It feels like a cold war.”

Hanna looks to Spencer.  They’re sitting on their couch, Spencer’s arm around Hanna.  It’s not exactly P.D.A., just a little cuddling, but Emily still finds herself surprised by the image, especially when coupled with her new knowledge of their relationship.  They seem happy though, and she’s getting more and more used to it.

“I’m sorry, Em,” Hanna says mournfully.  “We shouldn’t have said anything.  You guys could have just kept living your lives together.”

“It’s not your fault,” Emily insists.  “It’s just—”

“It’s Ali,” Spencer says understandingly.  Emily nods.

Ali continues going to her doctor’s appointments solo, with Emily playing the role of chauffeur.  She’s starting to have a little trouble getting around now, her body seeming to bring a new change every day.  Emily wants to be there for her but the distance between them feels massive and impossible.

One day after work Becca comes over to her and says they need to talk.  “You seem really distracted,” she says, not unkindly.  “I think maybe you need to be on your own right now.”  Emily can’t really blame her; this has felt like a real one-foot-out-the-door relationship.

Emily keeps dating, but doesn’t get too invested.  She brings one girl to the house but Ali doesn’t talk to her for three days after that, so she doesn’t do it again.  Ali doesn’t seem to care if she’s around, so she starts going out to bars after work instead of heading straight home.

One such night she doesn’t get home until late, nearly three in the morning.  She stumbles inside to find Ali seated on the couch, body rigid and eyes red.  “What’re you doing up?” Emily asks, trying not to slur her words.

“Waiting for you,” Ali replies coldly.  “I was worried.  Glad to see you’re not dead.”  She gets up and walks away, leaving Emily feeling nauseous and incredibly alone.


	19. Chapter 19

After that night Emily makes an effort to not go out so much, or at least to come back at a reasonable hour.  She starts making an effort in other ways: checking in with Ali more, bringing home food, even attempting to cook once or twice.  Ali seems to take notice and appreciate it, at least somewhat, and starts talking to Emily again.  One day as Emily picks her up from her appointment Ali stops her from driving away immediately.  “I have something to show you,” she says with a small smile, pulling a sonogram picture out of her bag.  

“Wow,” Emily says, studying the picture.  “That’s—an actual person.”  She looks at Ali.  “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Ali ducks her head and pushes some hair behind her ear, a move that always made Emily’s heart race when they were teenagers.  “It’s a girl.”

Emily grins.  “Ali, that’s amazing!”  She reaches forward for a hug, but stops herself.  They haven’t been in physical contact since the night of the party.

Ali doesn’t react to that, just shifts in her seat.  “I realized we have nothing for the baby’s room,” she points out.  “I thought, maybe this weekend we could go shopping?”

“I’d love to,” Emily says genuinely.

That weekend they go all out, getting everything they need to turn the empty third bedroom into a beautiful nursery.  The clerk at the store smiles at them during check out, before whispering to Emily loud enough for Ali to hear, “Your wife is very lucky.”  Emily works hard to keep her face neutral, while Ali scowls.

Ali picks a purple theme for the room, deciding that pink is too expected.  Their neighbors offer to come help paint one Sunday.  Jim and Teddy have been married for nearly five years, and Emily is pretty sure her relationship with Ali confounds them, but she appreciates that they never question her about it.

That night Ali makes a delicious meal for the four of them, and when the baby starts kicking halfway through she automatically grabs Emily’s hand to put on her stomach.  The kick is strong and surprising, and Emily feels a swell of something close to pride at the contact.

The thaw between them isn’t permanent, but it is definite.  Ali still doesn’t like when Emily talks about her dates, but she tells Emily, with a grimace, that it’s okay if she invites girls over.  Emily doesn’t feel right about that though, and gently declines the offer.

As time draws closer to Ali’s due date Emily finds herself growing increasingly protective.  “What do you think is going to happen to me?” Ali asks in a teasing voice when Emily insists she be the one to do the grocery shopping.

“I just don’t like the idea of you out and about alone,” Emily says, realizing that this makes her sound like an old-fashioned husband.  “Just, if you need anything, let me know, okay?”

Ali insists that Emily still go out and enjoy herself, and finally one night after a long work day Emily relents.  It’s still three weeks until the due date, and Ali wanted to have a FaceTime with Aria.  

This is of course the night Emily gets the call, midway through her second cocktail: “I think I’m in labor.”


	20. Chapter 20

Emily feels a little bad admitting it, but when Ali told her a few weeks ago that she didn’t want her in the delivery room, she felt grateful.  “It’s not because I’m upset with you,” Ali explained.  “I just need to do this alone.”  Emily didn’t feel the need to ask follow-up questions.  It seemed like an Ali thing to do.

Now she finds herself seated in the waiting room, feeling once again like an anxious husband.  Her alcohol buzz has morphed into a caffeine buzz; it’s been nearly four hours and she’s had three cups of coffee.  Ali’s doctor came through a bit ago to say that things are progressing nicely, which sounds good but Emily has no idea what it really means, nor does she want to.

She’s been on the phone with Hanna and her mom, both of them sending good vibes from across the country.  Pam wants to come for a visit soon.  She’s ecstatic that Emily is going to be involved in the baby’s life, though Emily often feels like there’s something she’s not saying in her phone calls.

Another few hours pass.  Emily reads every magazine in the waiting room and drinks another cup and a half of coffee.  Finally Ali’s doctor comes through the doors with a wide smile.  “Would you like to meet the baby?” he asks, and Emily follows him, feeling jittery.

When Emily gets to the room, her eyes take in Ali first—looking pretty and sweaty and a little dazed—before falling to the baby in her arms.  And _whoa_.

The baby looks _just_ like Emily.  Same skin tone, nose and chin.  Emily moves toward the bed in a trance, confounded by the carbon copy of herself situated in Ali’s arms.  “I’m glad your genes were stronger than his,” Ali comments, voice hoarse and hushed.  Emily sits down in a chair beside her.  “Want to hold her?”

Emily can only nod as Ali carefully moves the swaddled, sleeping bundle into her arms.  She feels like her heart might beat out of her chest.  Emily wants to say congratulations, to ask how Ali is doing, but finds an enormous lump in her throat.  Before she knows it tears are welling in her eyes.  Her arms automatically begin to rock slowly back and forth, the baby’s breathing steady and peaceful.

Ali looks at them both.  “She’s pretty incredible, huh?”  

Emily manages to eek out, “Yeah,” before clearing her throat and continuing in a whisper, “How are you doing?”

Ali tips her head back against the pillow.  “Tired.  Sore,” she answers.  “Deliriously happy.”  She grins.  “What should we name her?”  She says it so casually, as though she’s asking what toppings Emily would like on her pizza.

Emily’s head snaps up.  “What do you mean?  You don’t have a name?”

Ali sighs.  “Well, I thought about naming her after someone I love who’s died.  Charlotte.  Jessica.  But that’s awfully morbid.”

 _Maya_ , Emily thinks immediately, but doesn’t say it.  She gets Ali’s point.  “She should represent something new and hopeful,” Emily remarks.

Ali snaps her fingers, softly so as not to wake the infant.  “That’s it!  Hope.”  She peers at her baby, still sleeping soundly in Emily’s arms.  “She can be our little Hope.”  Emily feels the lump forming again at the use of the word _ours_ , but she merely nods her head in affirmation.

Ali is quiet for a moment, considering.  “She needs a middle name,” she says.  “And I think I want it to be your name.”

Tears threaten to leave the corners of Emily’s eyes.  “Are you sure?” she whispers.

“Of course,” Ali says.  She leans forward carefully.  “Welcome to the world, Hope Emily DiLaurentis.”


	21. Chapter 21

Pam arrives at their house three days after Ali leaves the hospital, and Emily has never been so grateful to see her mother.  She loves Hope—it sort of terrifies her how much she does—but having a baby around changes _everything_.

It amazes Emily how quickly a routine can be formed.  Before Hope was born she and Ali had a number of conversations about what the set-up of their life would be once a baby joined the midst, with Ali always insisting she would be the primary care-giver and Emily assuring her that she was happy to help.  But from that first day home, Emily feels like the other parent.  Hope’s been staying in Ali’s room but Emily’s is right across from them, and she finds herself getting up in the night with Hope just as much as Ali is.  She doesn’t do it with resentment, or out of a sense of obligation.  She does it because she wants to.

But having another set of hands around the house for a few days—a set of hands that has been through this baby thing before—is a welcome break for them both.  Pam is as shocked by Hope’s resemblance to her daughter as Emily was, and it only makes her coo over the baby more.  “This is incredible,” she keeps remarking to Emily.  “I feel like I’ve gone back twenty-six years to when you were a newborn.”

Emily doesn’t really get any alone time with her mom until one afternoon when Ali and Hope are napping together.  Emily and Pam sit in the living room together, drinking tea and sharing stories.  At one point Pam fixes her with a look, one that Emily can’t quite read.

“What?” she asks self-consciously.

Pam smiles.  “I’m proud of you, that’s all.”

Emily’s taken aback.  “You are?”

“Of course,” Pam says, leaning across to grab Emily’s hand.  “You made your friend’s dream come true, and now you’re continuing to help her in the most meaningful way.”  Her expression grows a little solemn.  “I just hope _you’re_ getting something out of it.”

Emily doesn’t like the implication in her tone and pulls her hand away.  “Of course I am,” she says.  “I love Hope and I love Ali.”

Pam gives her another weird look and tilts her head.  “Emmy, I don’t totally understand what you and Alison are doing or how you think this is going to play out.”

Emily narrows her eyes.  “What do you mean?” she asks, feeling that ice-in-her-blood thing start to happen again.

Pam scoots forward in her chair.  “I _mean_ ,” she begins diplomatically.  “You two are living together, raising a baby together—a baby that’s biologically yours.  And you have a heck of a history.  You don’t think all of that might make some feelings come to the surface?”

Emily shrugs, suddenly feeling like she’s under a microscope.  “Of course it might.  But Ali and I have talked about this.  It’s not a good idea.”  She tries to sound as mature as possible, as though she’s thought through all possible outcomes, but that’s hard to do when her mother’s giving her that look.

“Why not?”

Emily frowns.  “I’m getting really tired of everyone asking me that,” she snaps.  Emily looks at her mother and sees nothing but loving concern looking back.  She feels bad for talking so sharply to her.  “Look, Mom,” she says, trying to soften her tone.  “Ali and I are finally in a good place again after a while where we weren’t.  I’m not about to mess everything up.”

“I can understand that,” Pam responds.  “I’m just not so sure it would mess everything up the way you say it would.  Emily, things change when people have a baby.  And if you’re going through that process with someone, they become your partner in everything.”  She leans back and puts her hands up.  “That’s all I’m trying to tell you.”

Pam doesn’t say any more about it for the rest of her visit, but try as she might, Emily can’t get the conversation out of her head.  It seems to charge every interaction with Ali, and Emily finds herself studying Ali more closely than ever.  She’s so good with Hope, a total natural in a way that surprises them both.  There’s something mesmerizing about it, making Emily feel hopeless and fourteen, all over again.


	22. Chapter 22

Every day brings a new challenge, but Emily quickly discovers how much she enjoys this.  And really, in a lot of ways things are easier than she imagined.  She and Ali are a pretty great team, and the routine established in the days after leaving the hospital seems to just continue forward without incident.

Hope is just that; a miracle.  A savior.  She’s funny and captivating, has Emily’s looks but Ali’s love for the spotlight.  The day Emily has to go back to work is a deeply sad one, but she feels completely confident about Ali’s ability to manage on her own.  Motherhood has revealed itself to be a natural fit for Ali.  She seems more at home with Hope than Emily can ever recall her seeming doing anything.

When Emily gets home from work Ali has ordered a pizza and is eating it tiredly in front of the TV.  She half-smiles at Emily and wordlessly fixes her a plate, gesturing to the baby monitor to indicate that Hope is asleep.  The domesticity of the moment makes something sharp twist inside Emily.

She finds that she has no desire to be anywhere but home.  After work she doesn’t even entertain the idea of going out, and the concept of dating feels positively absurd.  One evening a coworker asks if she’d like to grab a drink, and Emily’s immediate thought is, _Why would I go out when my family is at home?_ She tries to brush the thought away, but still declines the invitation.

And then one evening something happens to upset the balance.  It’s a Saturday so they’ve both been home most of the day, aside from a quick walk and a trip to the grocery store.  Hope has been fussy all day but Ali thinks it’s just gas.  But she won’t go to sleep, and as Emily’s rocking her she notices how warm the baby feels.

They take her temperature, both assuring the other that everything’s probably fine, only to discover that Hope is carrying a temperature of 103 degrees.  Emily has car keys in hand before Ali can even get her shoes on.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Ali insists, voice only wavering slightly as they drive to the hospital.  “Babies get fevers all the time.”

“Of course she’ll be fine!” Emily says a little too loudly.  “But better safe than sorry with these things, right?”

At the hospital the check-in process is relatively quick, until a nurse fixes Emily with a withering stare and says, “And who are you?”

Emily feels a bit of rage rising within her, but Ali just coolly steps up to the nurse’s desk and says, “Can’t you see they look just alike?  She’s my wife and her biological mom.”  Ali’s still so good at lying, her anxiety not even betraying the untruth.

Hope is of course fine, just needs fluids and rest, and they get out of the hospital as quickly as they can.  The car ride home is very quiet, but there’s a sense of relief between them.  After Hope is safely in bed Ali settles on the couch and Emily pours them two small glasses of wine.  “I shouldn’t,” Ali says regretfully, putting her hands over her breasts.

Emily waves a hand nonchalantly.  “One little glass will be fine, if you pump right after.  It’s been a stressful night.” 

Ali doesn’t need more convincing and eagerly grabs the glass.  After the first sip she leans back with a long exhale.  “I’ve missed this,” she says with a bit of wonder in her voice.

Emily leans back as well, though she still feels pretty tense.  Her mood has shifted from that of fear to that of being hyper-aware.  She and Ali are almost touching, side-by-side on the couch, and Emily’s skin feels warm and tight.  “Thank you,” she says after a long silence, “for lying to that nurse.  I would have gone crazy out in the waiting room.”

Ali rolls her head to the side so they can look at one another, her face just inches from Emily’s.  “ _I_ would have gone crazy without you in there.”  She smiles.  “See, sometimes lies are good, Em.”

Emily nods in response, willing her eyes to not flick down to Ali’s lips.  She’s not sure she succeeds.  “You are her other mom, in every way that matters,” Ali continues.  “I always think of you that way.”

Emily smiles back at her.  “I’m glad you do.”

Ali swallows audibly, reaching to the end table to set her wine glass down without moving her body away.  Emily follows her cue and does the same with her glass.  They stare at one another for a beat, the room heavy with words unspoken.  “I really want to kiss you,” Ali finally admits breathily.  “But that’d be breaking a rule.  Nothing romantic, right?”

Emily full-on grins now, and whispers back, “Some rules are meant to be broken.”  Then she screws her courage to the sticking place, and closes the gulf between them.

When her lips connect with Ali’s, it feels like every question she doesn’t know the answer to is being answered.  Ali kisses her gently at first, sitting up a little to bring her hand to Emily’s cheek.  Then Emily shifts, or maybe it’s Ali, and suddenly Ali is straddling her hips, arms around Emily’s neck, tongue searching Emily’s mouth.  Maybe she’s finding answers there too.  Maybe this was always the solution.  Emily’s done with talking herself into alternatives.

They kiss like that for a while, passionate and unhurried.  Emily has no clue how much time passes, she just knows that it’s been so very long since they’ve done this.  And they’ve never really done _this._ Finally Emily pulls back a little, but holds Ali’s hip in place with one hand.  With the other she smooths a bit of hair back from Ali’s face.  It’s wild again, but this time for a good reason.  

“I love you,” Emily says thickly, the words tumbling out before she can even think about stopping them.  “I’m in love with you, Alison.”

Ali smiles and runs her thumb over Emily’s lip, a move that makes her body heat up in a lovely way.  “Oh Em, don’t you know I’m so in love with you too?”  Emily pulls her in for another kiss.  

This is not a dream, and they don’t have to run away, but it’s true all the same: Ali _loves_ her.


	23. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking this journey with me. This is the first fic I've shared with the internet, and I so appreciate everyone who's taken the time to read it.

The sky is cloudy and drizzly, the kind of day many brides would be fretting over, but Emily doesn’t care.  “A nice day for a white wedding,” Hanna remarks.  She means it as a joke, but Emily knows it’s true.  She and Ali are getting married.  Any day would be a nice day for that to happen.

The wedding is really just a formality.  Signing Hope’s adoption papers two months ago felt like the real symbol of commitment to Emily.  But Ali wants to get married, and truthfully Emily does to, so here they are, at a little non-denominational church in San Diego, with their friends and small amount of family around them.

Hanna planned the wedding, of course, and she’s been fussing over the dresses all day.  “Han, we have a one-year-old,” Ali’s pointed out numerous times.  “The dresses are going to get a little messy.”

“Ali, I love your daughter, but if she spits up on one of those dresses, we will have _words_!” Hanna announces, but there’s a twinkle in her eye.

Pam initially wanted to walk Emily down the aisle, but the idea that Ali wouldn’t have anyone to walk with her broke Emily’s heart, so instead Pam is carrying Hope.  Emily truly believes that Hope has never looked more adorable, in her Hanna-approved tuxedo-print dress.  There’s a concept to it, Hanna explained, since Hope is playing the role of both ring bearer and flower girl.

Aria takes lots of candids as they all get ready in the back room of the church.  At first Hanna was appalled that the brides would be seeing each other before the ceremony, but Spencer just raised her eyebrow and dryly noted, “Is anything about this set-up traditional?”  Hanna had to relent at that.

Ali admitted the night before that she felt a little strange about this being her second wedding, but then Emily grabbed her hands, kissed her soundly, and said, “This is the one that matters.  We’re going to spend our lives together.”  Ali seems to feel absolutely fine after hearing that.

The day is a mess of dresses and make-up and running around, and then suddenly the music is playing.  Aria, Spencer and Hanna file out, followed by Pam and Hope.  For a moment it’s just the two of them, Ali and Emily.  “Are you ready?” Ali asks.

Emily looks at her bride, radiant and smiling, her eyes full of promise.  She thinks about all the years that have led to this point, the tears and the heartache, the waiting and the missed opportunities.  

She thinks she wouldn’t have traded it in for anything.

“Yeah,” Emily says.  “I’m ready.”


End file.
